A True Story (poetic license aside…)

He watched her from across the room
And knew he was undone.
He’d tried to build a barrier,
But all resolve was gone.
He felt laid bare for all to see;
He wasn’t in control;
The heart he’d tried to keep himself
Was no longer his own.

He stole a sideward glance at her,
Wiped off his sweaty palms
And checked his watch about the millionth time.
The night was nearly over
But not a word was said
Of the twisting turmoil
That was filling up his head.
For years it had been brewing,
This exquisite sort of pain,
But now he knew his secret could simply not remain
Unsaid.

She, smiling, turned to say goodbye –
His tongue had turned to dust;
He weakly raised his hand to wave
Goodbye to all his love.
But as she walked into the night
His heart would not stay still
But propelled his legs into the dark
And hammered on until
He spoke her name…
She turned around;
Looked into his eyes,
He swallowed fear
Then spoke his love
And boldly said:
“Be mine?”

When it had started he didn’t know
Nor how it all would end;
He only knew he wanted
To be so much more than friends.
He knew she might say no
And that word would break his heart;
But he couldn’t bear not knowing anymore.

The problem with being single… Mark II

Okay, so I posted something on this last night then TOTALLY chickened out of it.  Because one of the perpetual problems of being single is actually more about how other people view your singleness, rather than focussing on your own views (it didn’t help that I get a comment from some site called bestdates.wordpress.com or something.  Feel free to look up the site – I’m not judging internet daters…!).  This insecurity pops its head up and down (much like a chicken, you might say) and so popped its head up this morning, having had its head firmly down last night.  So that’s the problem with being single.

But that wasn’t what the post was about.

I thought about putting it back up, but I think I’ve actually deleted it, lost it forever kind of deleted it. So it’ll need to be re-written.  And I’d need to be feeling brave to do that.

Once upon a time…

It would seem that between the ages of 13 and 14 I had boys falling at my feet (relatively speaking…).  I’m not sure what it was, nor why I appear to have lost it, but it only really brought me trouble.

You see, I’m a closet goody two-shoes  (although I probably don’t hide it as well as I think).  So, when a lovely 16 year old boy asked little 13year old me for a date, I consulted my mother.

She was horrified.

Being the ‘baby of the family’ may seem like a cushty role to play in life, but it leaves you with all sorts of people-pleasing hangups.  So, outright rebellion is out of the question – at least as a 13 year old.

The following year, the same lovely boy asked the same lovely girl for a date again, but mumsie still said no.  And the lovely young girl really liked the lovely boy, but still she obeyed her lovely, but horrified mother.

In the meantime, the lovely young girl had joined a lovely new youth group and there were lovely boys everywhere she looked.  Without ever dreaming that it might happen, it apeared she had attracted the attention of one of the loveliest boys in the group.  So, when this lovely boy – aged 17- asked the lovely girl – aged 14 – for a date, please, the lovely girl decided it would be lovely to say yes and just not mention it to lovely mumsie.

So, the lovely boy and the lovely girl enjoyed a lovely week of being ‘together’.  Then, one day, the lovely girl told lovely mumsie she was meeting her lovely friend Roberta to go for a lovely walk, but actually she was walking with the lovely boy.

Oh rebellion!  Oh deceit! Oh illicit loveliness!

Walking hand in hand up the road, the lovely boy and girl were having a lovely time.  Then they look up, just as lovely mumsie and pops drive past the star-crossed lovely-ers.

Not so lovely.  I can still hear what was said ringing in my ears:

“Be sure your sin will find you out”…

And it did!